


Leave the Mask Behind

by Philpott397



Category: Far Cry: New Dawn
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-12 23:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18020822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philpott397/pseuds/Philpott397
Summary: The deputy suffered for years under Joseph, living with his guilt before the captain arrived in Hope County.  It was like looking into a mirror when he saw her.  But could she be his salvation?





	1. First Impressions

The first he sees her all he sees is his reflection, his ambition from long ago wrapped up in a smaller frame.  Hungering for his old lighter as she holds the father’s word up to the opening in the gate.  Wanting to light the scripture aflame and toss it off the ruined statue that Eden still held in their palms.  But he remains quiet, leading her to Ethan with his knuckles white under the gloves from gripping the bow as a lifeline.  If she only knew what ambition had got him, what it had made him into.  He wonders if she would care.

This captain, this woman, some call her Tris.  She brings back the father much to his simmering displeasure.  Having allowed himself to think that the man might had actually passed in the north was a mistake on his part.  But for a few moments the fantasy had brought him peace.  Now shattered as the man laid a wrinkled hand on his shoulder as he passed to stand beside his son.  The father couldn’t feel it, but he tensed and bristled under the touch, wanting nothing more than to gut the man in front of his followers for making him what he was now. 

Quiet he stands as the father gives him over to her like a tool, to use to her devices against the present enemy.  He knows she can’t see beyond the holes in the mask to his eyes, but he takes some pleasure in the slight frown she wears when he refuses to even grunt at her greeting and outstretched hand.  Taking a seat in the passenger side of the truck she no doubt stole from the highwaymen, he lets his mind drift.  Pretending for a moment that none of this happened, that he was still himself before the bombs and the Seed family.

“So do you talk at all?”  Tris asks after a few miles, turning down the road past an old gas station long taken over by soil and foliage.

The question breaks him out of daydreaming about the time he had been playing fetch with Boomer just outside Falls End.  The energetic pup chasing him with a slobber soaked ball just before he had tripped over a rock and crashed into the lush grass.  His best friend immediately taking the chance to drop the soaked ball onto the ground in favor of lying with his master.  The canine’s barking fading from his mind as he turns his gaze to face the dashboard of the truck. 

His scared throat throbbed in discomfort as he swallowed, hoping that his continued silence was enough to answer.  It was a remnant from his time in the bunker, during the fourth year stuck in that concrete hell with the very person he had been trying to destroy.  He had managed to break the lock to the room Dutch had stored his medical supplies.  Uncapping random bottles with chemical symbols, he had downed seven by the time Joseph had caught on to his attempt.  With blood dripping from his mouth and throat burning like it was melting he had smiled before passing out.  Only to wake up and cough up parts of his throat, glaring at Joseph who was reading the instructions on a bottle of chemical dispersant.

“Not a talker, that’s alright.  It seems like the people in Eden talk more than enough to fill that gap.”  She mumbled, smiling as she just caught a slight huff of airy laughter from the man beside her.

“I’m taking us back to prosperity for the night, you’re welcome to stick around there or wherever you’re comfortable.  I won’t force you into helping me with attacking the highwaymen.”  She said as they turned onto the covered trail that lead to the settlement.

Lifting his hand he pointed in the direction of prosperity and then held his thumb up with the intent to communicate that he was ok with staying where she was.  Sure the citizens of prosperity didn’t exactly like him, they didn’t know who he really was.  To them, Rook, Dep, the deputy had died when the bombs fell, and they were probably right.  He was just an outsider that wandered in wearing the colors of their old enemies.

“Alright, they might not like you at first, but I’ll vouch for you.”  Tris said, patting his arm with a smirk as she pulled up to the outside of the garage.

Climbing out of the truck he left his bow in the passenger seat, noticing that Tris had done the same with her own weapons.  Falling into step behind her, he tried not to bristle at the suspicious stares being thrown his way by everyone on the wall, gathering food from outside the walls, and finally the very family that had first taken him in when he had stumbled into the Holland Valley.

“Why is that thing with you?”  Kim asks, crossing her arms in obvious agitation with Rush coming up behind her.

“Joseph sent him with me to help out.  He’s also starting to attack the highwaymen in the daytime so that should give us some breathing room to push back.”  The captain said, hearing the shuffling feet of her companion shifting in the grass.

“A deal with the devil then, keep an eye on it, if anything happens while it is here you’re responsible.  Rush where are we in the plan?”  Kim asks, watching the Judge slip away with a slight slump in their posture.

Feeling the water running down his cheeks to collect where the mask met his chin, he tucked himself in the dark corner by the smaller garage door against the wall.  It was people talking like Kim that made a small voice in his mind become larger.  The voice of the father that told him for seven years, over and over, that he was a monster.  That it was his hands that ran red with blood from people that were only trying to do the right thing.  Now stained black with the ashes of the world that he refused to walk away from and just stop pushing.

_“God says that you should be forgiven, that your actions were of sin and therefore able to be forgiven.  But don’t think that just because I forgive your actions that they will be forgotten.  You were judged by me, by my brothers, by God himself and you still turned your back.  You are a sinner, the embodiment of wrath with a language only spoken of violence.”_

_“Yet you try to take yourself from this world when God has not given you permission.  How has violence not consumed your soul by now?  Are you not filled with guilt for what you have done, do you not care that you have taken everything from me!  You’re all I have left, and I’ll be damned before God before I let you expire before your true purpose is revealed.”_

Snapping back to the real world, he feels her hand on his shoulder vividly despite the layers of animal hide between them.  He wonders what she would think if he could see how wide and panicked his eyes were behind the mask.  Flashes of lying on the cold concrete floor of the bunker for years with a maniac yelling religious and personal messages at him still fresh as he blinked away his tears.  She was there though, smiling warmly and waiting for a response.  Taking a shuddering breath, he pushed himself off the wall and followed her to a roof in the second floor of the hanger.

“Feel free to get comfy, I’m going to go grab some dinner and bring it up.”  She said, leaving before he could do anything. 

Looking around the room he could see that it was probably meant to be a guest room.  A wooden dresser, one queen bed, and a few random boxes of supplies.  Taking a seat in the corner by some cushions, he took off his gloves and set them on the worn wooden floor.  He had his own tent in New Eden, which enabled him to take off this persona and relax slightly at night.  Not being able to see himself for years was fine to him.  But being in this room with a roommate for the night, a mirror directly beside him on the door, it was unnerving.

“Wow, gloves off you must feel practically naked.”  Tris said as she came back into the room with two plates, shutting the door behind her.

Blushing behind his mask, he took one of the plates, a collection of shredded meat and steamed veggies.  She took a seat at the foot of the bed, her back rest against it as she gave him an expectant look.  Setting the plate on the floor, he stared at his lap with a slight shiver running down his spine.  He didn’t look up as he heard her sigh, the ceramic plate meeting the wooden floor as she shuffled.  Losing track of the woman for a moment, he flinched violently when he felt her fingertips at the edge of his mask.  The skin of her fingers just barely touching his cheek.

“It’s just the two of us.  Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone if you’re ugly.”  She whispered like she was dealing with an animal that would lash out at the first raise of volume in her voice.

Feeling the mask start to separate from his skin, he panicked and shoved her back on her haunches.  Gloves in hand he basically jumped off the small balcony to his left and ran to the walls of the settlement.  Scaling the wall, not willing to wait for the gates to open, he ran.  Sprinted as far as he could before the pain in his throat from his lungs gasping for air stopped him dead in his tracks at the shore of the river.

Wheezing in pain he curled up on himself with his knees pulled up to his chest.  Distantly feeling the smooth river rocks under him, shifting as he shivered.  In the back of his mind he could hear John whispering about violence and wrath.  His chest throbbing in memory of the harshly executed tattoo that morning in Falls End.  He didn’t know how to accept someone like the captain into his life even if they were just trying to help.  His wrath would taint the relationship sooner or later.  It had with all his friends that he had before the collapse.  Why would Tris be any different? 

Time passes slowly, stretching into hours before he makes his way back to prosperity.  Stepping quietly around the sleeping survivors, he makes his way up to the room.  Opening the door a crack he sees the captain sleeping under the thick blankets in the bed.  His food still sits untouched on the table in the corner of the room.  Taking the plate, he returns to his corner, lifting his mask a fraction of an inch to eat the meal.  Cringing at each throb of pain that swallowing sends through his body.  His punishment for a lifetime.

Setting the empty plate to the side, he shifts the mask back over his face before settling down in the cushions.  Curling up he only shivers slightly at the small breeze coming from under the balcony door.  Usually he slept alone, it was a comfort to be secure in himself at night.  Knowing that another person in the room usually impeded that, reminding him of the old man’s feet slapping on the concrete for seven years.  But oddly enough he felt himself slipping off into the land of sleep easily, to the sound of the woman’s soft breathing.


	2. A Transition

Waking up the next evening to his surprise, the first thing he feels is the softness of a blanket obscuring some of his vision.  The heavy material almost soothing him back into his slumber until he hears some shuffling behind him.  Tensing for a moment, his body starts to activate his flight and fight response before he hears her mumbling to herself about some outpost out in the eastern part of the county.  Relaxing slightly, he allows himself a few moments of comfort before sitting up.

“Evening sleepyhead.”  Tris voices, smiling warmly as he stretches his stiff back from the hard wooden floor.

Nodding silently he wrings his hands in front of him in nervousness, the familiar feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach in new ways when he remembers his actions last night.  She seems to notice the tension and nervousness in his posture.  Setting down the report in her hand, she walks over to sit in front of him with a tired sigh. 

“I’m not mad at you for lashing out, I shouldn’t have pushed your boundaries like that.  Just know that you’re allowed to be comfortable to.  If that means staying in that mask it’s ok, but you always have the option around me to take it off ok?”  She explains, wrapping both of her hands around one of his gloveless ones.

His mind draws a blank on responding right away when she takes his hand.  The warmth of skin to skin contact is something that he hasn’t felt in a positive light for so long.  He misses the hugs that Kim used to give him, the strong grip of Carmina as a baby, and the bro hugs from Sharky and Hurk.  Pratt used to joke that he wasn’t loved enough as a child, Hudson compared him to a cuddly drunk that acted the same sober.  The comparison has made him laugh back then, now it pulled a choked sob from his mouth as he stared down at her hands encompassing his.

“It’s ok, let it out.”  She whispered, thumbs rubbing over the back of his hand.

Shaking his head, he tries to pull back his hand only to have it held in place with a grip he wasn’t expecting.  Without a word she pulls him to his feet leaving the blanket behind in a heap in the floor.  He’s let past disapproving stares, out the gates, and up North along the shore, just short of Bean’s old residence.  They end up in a secluded spot at the edge of the slow stream, twigs crunching under their feet as she pulls him to sit down on the dry river gravel. 

“Take the mask off.”  She demands, voice not harsh, but also not leaving room for compromise.

He goes to shake his head again when she holds up a hand to stop him.  Eyes burning bright with the determination that he liked to think he once had.  He feels something break inside of his chest as he reaches up with a hesitant hand to the clip holding the mask.  Like he’s under her spell, not knowing if that should comfort him or scare him.  Hearing the click of the clip makes it real as the straps loosen around the back of his head. 

Pulling back his hood first, it reveals the short brown hair that he had kept spiked at the top of his head, flecks of grey entering over the decades since the collapse.  Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand around the edge of the mask to take it off and to set in his lap.  Blinking his eyes a few times to adjust to the new volume of light, he doesn’t lift his gaze from the ground to see when her expression is.  He can only guess what he looks like, a shell of his former self, pale and tired.

“Well look at that, there was a handsome man hiding behind that piece of wood.”  Tris says, smiling as he holds up a small makeup mirror before he can turn away.

If he’s honest with himself, he hasn’t aged badly for all that he went through from the collapse to now.  He has some new wrinkles in his forehead and cheeks, his crow’s feet more apparent.  His once bright blue eyes had dulled to a blue tinted gray.  He certainly still looks young for his age of just over forty.  Suddenly realizing her compliment, he also realizes that his blush is no longer hidden when she chuckles quietly.

“You’re adorable for someone that acts like such a cold person.”  She mused, smiling as he glanced over with a small smirk.

He couldn’t help the airy laughter that made his chest contract without any real sound.  The pain momentarily forgotten as he looked at the woman beside him.  Smiling with such appreciation that he had shown a part of himself to her.  Feeling a bubbly joy that he thought was long dead and rotted away thanks to the efforts of the Seed family and that bunker.  He didn’t know why he felt so at ease around her, but then again he didn’t want to question the one good thing that had come into his life in a long time.

“What’s your actual name?”  Tris asks, looking out over the stream briefly as some fish jump and splash.

Nodding he leaned down and started scrawling letters in the more sandy parts of the shoreline.  Deciding to bite the bullet all at once and list what he used to be combined with the name that he wished more people knew back then and now.

_The Deputy_

_Dep_

_Rookie_

_Rook_

_Scott_

“Do you mean the deputy that Kim and some of the others talk about?  The guy they think is long dead, the one that saved them from Eden before the collapse.”  She asked, watching him squirm in discomfort before nodding in affirmation to her question.

His skin pricked at the word saved.  It was thrown around so much in this damned county, by the righteous and villainous alike.  From the siblings exclaiming that they were rescuing the citizens of the valley, saving them from the end of the world.  To the resistance that claimed they were protecting and saving their people from the lunatics in the church.  And then him, the one that thought he could save them all.  His only thanks a knife to the thigh from the younger brother for trying to haul him into a pickup after his plane had gone down.  He couldn’t save anyone without ruining it.

“Why haven’t you told them?”  Tris asked carefully, now able to see the faraway look and tensing muscles of the man’s jaw working with memories.

Drawing the next word with an arrow pointing toward himself, he sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest gravel collecting under his heels as they dragged across the ground.

_Failure_

Looking at him in confusion, she nudged his shoulder to get him to look back at her in mild surprise.  And without warning she grabbed the mask from his lap and sat back down a few feet from him.  His heart jumping in his chest as he watched her examine the worn material, to close to the steadily flowing stream for his liking.  There was no way that she couldn’t see the full blown fear in his eyes, the power she had over him with one small action.

“I’ve heard the stories, you’re not a failure for doing your job back then.  It’s not like you chose to get mixed up with New Eden.  They miss you, the looks they’re giving you would just vanish if this did.”  She said, pointing to the mask.

_Traitor_

_Broken_

Scrawling the messy words in a haste, he could barely contain his shaking hands as she gave him a pointed look.  A small whine was collecting at the base of his throat, hand reaching for what was far out of his reach.

“You’re not those things.”  The captain said, scooting a little closer to him to take his outstretched hand in her own.

Halfway through a nod she pressed the mask back into his hand, the rough wood nearly putting a sliver in his palm from the force.  Curling his shaking digits around his disguise in suspicion, he tried to pull it back into the safety of his personal space only to have his hand held firmly in place.

“I can’t get rid of it, but you can.”  She said, glancing over to the stream before looking deep into his dull eyes.


End file.
